


Prat and Prejudice

by manicmagicat



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Alternate Universe - Pride and Prejudice Fusion, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2020-05-02 03:33:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19191079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manicmagicat/pseuds/manicmagicat
Summary: Simon Snow can charm anyone, he's confident of that. That is, until Mr. Pitch, stoic and obscenely rich, arrives at Netherfield with his friend Sir Micah. It doesn't matter though - Mr. Pitch is one of the most unpleasant men Simon has ever met. He wouldn't want to win him over even if he could.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!!! I'm so excited to finally be putting the first chapter of this up. I'm going to be aiming for a weekly posting schedule. Thank you so so much to my beta @ineffable-imbeciles on tumblr and @spectaclesandbooks on here who honestly wrote like half of this (most of the good parts.) Feedback is super appreciated because tbh the fandom needs a Pride and Prejudice fic and I don't want to screw this up lmao

It was a sunny spring afternoon when Mrs. Snow made her way into her husband’s study to announce, “Darling, did you see that a new family has just moved into the Netherfield estate? We must go and welcome them to the neighborhood.”

  
“You and Penny may do as you please, but Simon and I have work to do,” Davey grunted, not looking up from the papers he had strewn across his desk.

  
“Oh, what kind of welcome is that!” Mrs. Snow exclaimed, making her way around the desk to stand next to her husband, hoping that her proximity would encourage him to engage with her more intently. “Surely we can all spare just an hour or two to introduce ourselves and prove ourselves accommodating neighbours.”  
Davey scoffed at this but still failed to look up from his work. If anything, he pored over the papers even more intently.

  
“I’ll prove nothing of the sort. I’m not glad to lose the use of the land and the fowl on it.”  
Mrs. Snow looked on sadly at her husband, but he didn’t spare her another glance.

It was not unusual for Mrs. Snow to feel rather as if she played second fiddle in her husband’s life, her prominence diminished to make way for his obsessive work life. Davey was always focused on his projects and he tried his utmost to make sure that their son Simon worked to the bone too. Mrs. Snow always thought that she could change Davey’s ways, that he would be better with her around. Even after 25 years of marriage, 25 unchanging years, she still hoped.

She was immensely proud of her family and the life they’d made for themselves. Her son and daughter could do no wrong in her eyes, though she wasn’t blind to her husband’s failings. Mrs. Snow could only do so much when it came to Davey, but she wouldn’t let her little rosebud boy get run ragged as a result of Davey’s unrelenting work obsession. As for Penny, she was absolutely brilliant. But Davey only valued a strong arm, not a good mind. This is one of the rare cases where being underestimated is no great loss.

* * *

The Snow’s estate in Watford was large and typically would have provided amply for a family of their size, had Davey not been a fool with his finances. He had sold off all of the land that he could and had plunged the family into debt with his wild projects, none of which were ever satisfyingly explained to the rest of the family. Neither his wife nor his children understood exactly what it was Mr. Snow did for a living, or what he squandered said living on. They just knew they were not permitted to ask, no matter how reckless he became. As a result, his children and his widow were to be considered fortunate if they were left with even fifty pounds a piece to their name after Davey’s eventual death.

Lucy Snow regretted this deeply for her children, though she did not worry for herself. She knew that this disparity of fortune must materially lower her children’s chances of making an eligible match. She wept for their fate, but she never stepped in to keep Davey from driving them even further into ruin. It likely wouldn’t have worked if she tried. Perhaps this new presence at Netherfield would provide an eligible match for one of them. It was a comforting thought to Lucy, at least.

* * *

Penny and Simon linked arms as they walked back on the road towards home from Netherfield, having spent the better afternoon fulfilling their mother’s request to welcome the newcomers.

  
“They will be very pleasant neighbors, do not you think?” Penny sighed, her head resting on Simon’s shoulder as they strolled side by side.

  
“Micah seemed quite pleasant, but I don’t think I need to tell you that,” Simon teased, amusement in his tone. Penny blushed as he looked down at her. “From where I was sitting, it seemed the two of you got on swimmingly.”

  
“Basilton seems most respectable as well. He’s disgustingly rich too from the sounds of it. Even more so than Micah, and he’s a Baron.” Penny said, looking over at Simon, who only huffed in response, remembering the events of the afternoon.

When they’d arrived at Netherfield just after luncheon, the pair had been anticipating a pleasant few hours spent making the acquaintance of his new neighbours, filled with polite conversation and amiable chatter. Penny had her wishes for a pleasant afternoon fulfilled, as she found she got on exceedingly well with the new proprietor of Netherfield. Sir Micah was the Baron that had just acquired Netherfield, and a very pleasant young man to boot. Micah was generous with his smiles and compliments to Penny and there were no shortages of blushes on either side. It was immediately apparent there was an attraction from both parties.

However, the closer the two grew, the more irritated Simon grew at his failed attempts to engage Micah's friend, Mr. Basilton Pitch. Simon never failed to charm everyone he met with his wide grins and easy nature. It seemed he’d finally found someone resistant to his charisma, however. Basilton Pitch was straight-faced and stony-eyed all afternoon, despite Simon’s many attempts to draw him in, rebuffing Simon’s offered friendship with a harshness bordering on incivility.

Mrs. Snow sat patiently waiting for them in the drawing room. She took up her sewing as they rushed in, and listened with real interest as her children described the details of the afternoon to her. They heard Davey clanging around in his workshop as they took tea, but his absence made the evening no less pleasurable. Simon ate quite as many scones as usual, Penny talked as much and as passionately as always, and Mrs. Snow looked on fondly.

“So, there’s to be a ball at Netherfield, is there?”


	2. Chapter 2

At intimate gatherings, Simon and Penny had found that they much preferred to dance the night away with each other, rather than the other attending guests. At large assemblies like this, however, they found it impossible to spend the evening with each other, as the rest of the ballroom seemed intent on spending as much time as possible with each of them.

Simon, for all his clumsy charm and easy wit, found himself catching the eyes of men and women alike at every ball he attended. His quick smiles had women swooning and men transfixed, and those lucky enough to hold his earnest attention found themselves craving it the more they had it. He was clever and kind, but humble and encouraging in a way that made him all too easy to talk to.  
  
In kind, Penelope was known as an intelligent and accomplished young woman, her talents in music, dancing, riding and drawing having grown famous through their neighbouring families. Though, as much as her many suitors were drawn to her for her talents, had she been a penniless street woman who had never so much as heard a piano, they likely still would have come to her, so irresistible was she. Both she and Simon had a certain charm about them, leaving those lucky enough to meet them surprised at their own eagerness to once again find themselves in their company.

As a result, Simon and Penny were never short of partners, and the siblings’ allure was particularly effective this evening, as the host, Micah, was by her side almost as soon as they entered the room. Simon made brief, polite conversation with the man, but it was obvious that Micah’s attentions were elsewhere. Within minutes he and a blushingly eager Penelope had promised their first two dances to each other.

Simon smiled and shook hands with Micah before turning and looking about the room. He wasn’t looking for anyone in particular, but his eyes just happened to fall onto Mr. Pitch, sulking at a table, looking perfectly easy in his unease. He rolled his eyes and turned on his heels, determined to find a pleasant partner for the first dances. His endeavour turned out to be a success, as it wasn’t much longer before he found himself kissing the hand of one Agatha Wellbelove.

Agatha had been Simon and Penny’s best friend all their lives, having grown up next door to them in the Wellbelove Manor. She was incredibly beautiful today, wearing a lavishly embroidered blue gown, her golden hair twisted this way and that into an elaborate updo adorned with pink flowers. Simon grinned at her and she returned it, albeit slightly less enthusiastically. Davey and Mrs. Snow had both always hoped that the two might marry, and Simon still entertained the idea of it from time to time. Agatha was lovely, but he often worried for her enthusiasm on the matter. Her expression belied her reservations now, as she returned his eager smile with one much more subdued. Endeavouring to put the matter out of his mind so he could enjoy the remainder of the evening, Simon offered her a dance, which she accepted.

Simon and Agatha soon found a place on the dance floor next to Penny and Micah, and the two couples exchanged pleasant conversation as they danced, the former with lazy familiarity and the latter with eager excitement. As he danced and spun to the gentle music with sure-footed steps, Simon found it easy to rid his mind of his misgivings about Agatha, as well as the dour cloud that had been temporarily covering his mind since the unexpected sighting of Mr. Pitch. However, once the dance was over and they stood apart from each other to offer brief applause to the musicians, Simon found his offer of another dance rejected. Agatha brushed him off with claims of fatigue, and suggested he find himself another partner before her golden hair disappeared into the crowd.

Left alone in the middle of the ballroom, which had begun to dance again, Simon felt a little wrong-footed at the abruptness of her departure, and, now not very much in the mood to dance himself, turned to make his way through the gaily dancing throng to the edges of the room, once again.

He watched the hypnotising movements of the happier guests for a while, before his eyes fell again upon the darkly imposing figure of Basilton Pitch, now mirroring Simon’s stoic pose on the opposite side of the dance floor, his own eyes watching the swaying dancers. Simon doubted that Basilton would dance with him, even if he had had either the intent to dance more, or the nerve to ask. Not that he would ask after the way Basilton had treated him during his and Penny’s visit to the manor earlier- if Basilton were to ask him, however…

At that moment, Basilton’s eyes lifted from the dancers to meet his own, and a jolt went through Simon’s body at being caught watching him, as if he had been discovered doing something wrong. But Basilton merely flitted his eyes away with a sneer, and Simon watched as he turned to speak to Micah, who was returning from the dance floor himself, presumably to get himself and his dance partner a drink.

His heart still beating harshly, Simon continued to observe the remaining dancers, and only noticed his feet had been taking him absently round the room when he happened upon a rare empty table, as most other available seats had been filled by sore-footed party guests taking a break from the exertion of the most recent dance. Simon manoeuvred himself into one of the few remaining chairs, thanking the stars he was mostly hidden from the rest of the room by the surrounding guests. Looking around absentmindedly, Simon flinched when he realised he had haplessly placed himself in earshot of Basilton and Micah’s conversation. He did his best to tune out them out, but this corner of the room was far quieter than the rest, and he was well within hearing range. There was nothing he could do, short of darting up and running away, but to do so would increase the chances of being noticed, and a confrontation would be therefore inevitable. He looked away from them, at least, but the sounds of their speech found their way to his ears nevertheless.

“Baz, you look like a fool,” Micah was saying, his tone full of exasperation. “There are more lovely people here than I have ever met in my life! I insist that you join us in dancing.”

“Micah, you know that I don’t enjoy dancing with those I am not acquainted with. It is so relentlessly tiring to try and attempt conversation with those with whom you are not on an intellectual par.” Mr. Pitch’s voice was full of its customary sneering confidence, the disdain practically dripping off every word. He seemed to be in an even fouler mood than he had been earlier, and Simon hunkered lower still into his chair. “I know you say that you understand, but the ease with which you throw yourself into conversation with strangers suggests otherwise. As much as you seem to be enjoying yourself with these stray simpletons, I simply have no interest in dancing with random boys.”

“They’re not boys, Basilton, they’re men! And many of them very fine young men, not the spluttering idiots you insist they are.”

Basilton seemed to disagree, shaking his head with a disbelieving snort. Micah seemed reluctant to give up, however.

“Take Simon Snow for example. I don’t know him intimately, but he is the brother of my dancing partner, and from the conversation we’ve had, he seems to be a perfectly charming, intelligent young man. He’s thoroughly accomplished, to a point past rebuttal from even your high standards, and also happens to be excessively handsome. I think the two of you should get along famously. Let me ask Penelope to introduce you to him properly.”

Simon’s face was burning. He desperately wanted to remove himself from earshot, but could not risk drawing attention to himself now, as much as he wanted to avoid hearing the inevitable rebuttal.

“Excessively handsome? Intelligent and accomplished? He’s covered in freckles and he’s got two left feet. And as for charming conversation, from what little I’ve heard, he seems to have trouble stringing more than three words together. You really must think too little of me. Go back to your partner and enjoy her enchantments, you’re wasting your time here.”

With that, Basilton swept away to be lost to the crowd, and Micah returned to the dance floor after shaking his head and snorting at his friend’s exceptional ill-humor. Simon sank somehow lower into his chair and prayed, for the first time ever, for the party to be over.

In the end, Penelope had a much better night than she had hoped for, and Simon had a much worse one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry to leave you all on this ending, but happier days are coming! Thank you so much for reading!! If you want to talk or just stay updated, head over to my tumblr @manicmagicat :)


	3. Chapter 3

Penelope and Micah had spent several more evenings in each other’s company when Penelope’s father finally began to take an interest in the pairing.

“What’s this I’ve been hearing about Penelope and that young man that’s just come to town?” Davey asked his wife with feigned disinterest.

Mrs. Snow began a reply, a short summary of the relationship, but he cut her off as soon as he gathered that there was a connection present.

“You ought to be encouraging the match. That man is exceedingly well connected and could help me a great deal in my work. Everything possible should be done to promote this.”

Though she had no objection to the match, and did, in fact, think it would be an excellent marriage for her daughter, Lucy immediately chafed under her husband’s insistence that she support it. She was not used to being so contrary, but something about Davey’s assumption that she’d only support Micah’s courtship as a business venture tempted her into obstinacy.

“I will do what is best for our children’s happiness. I think that ought to be more important to any parent than business opportunities.” Mrs. Snow replied curtly, exhibiting a rare show of defiance. 

Penny sat in the armchair working on her embroidery attempting to stifle her smile at her mother’s cutting defense. She loved her family. Even her father, infuriating as he was.

At Penny’s muffled snort, Davey looked up, eyebrows furrowed, as if his wife’s bold retort hadn’t registered until just then. “I beg your pardon?”

At the look her husband was giving her, Lucy nearly quailed, but the knowledge that her daughter was watching gave her the confidence to continue.

“I’m already supporting the match, Davey. I think it is an excellent pairing, for numerous reasons, and I wholly approve of Micah- for our daughter. Not as your business partner.”

A brief quiet fell over the room. Penny, sensing the growing tension, slowly lowered her needle to watch warily. It was a battle of wills: Lucy, emboldened by her daughter’s presence and bolstered by her continued fury at her husband, against Davey; confused and irritated by his wife’s sudden lack of submission. After a few moments of stand-offishness, Davey shrugged and looked back down to his work.

“As long as we have Micah on our side, I don’t care what you say to get him there.”

Lucy made a guttural noise of frustration and swept from the room, throwing her hands up in exasperation as she did so. Not wanting to stay in the room any longer, Penny hastily gathered up her sewing things and hurried after her mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay this is a short update but comment if you want me to update again tonight and ill post the next chapter where baz has a... revelation ;) 
> 
> Also once again thank you so much to my amazing beta Rachel for making this readable, check her out at @ineffable-imbeciles on tumblr and @spectaclesandbooks on here. While you're on her tumblr, feel free to swing by mine @manicmagicat for chats and shit posts


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Literally thank u sm to everyone that comments and leaves kudos on this yall feed my soul and motivate me to keep writing and i love yall sm!!!!!

Simon and Penelope were over at Netherfield for supper, an occurrence that had become common in the past few weeks. And as had also become commonplace, Basilton found himself sitting across from Simon yet again, but this time there was something different.

There was a hot, curling feeling deep in the pit of Basilton’s stomach, and it only intensified every time he made eye contact with the guest sitting opposite him. It had taken him a while to recognise the feeling, (it was not one he made a habit of getting acquainted with), but after the fifth jolt of discomfort at Simon’s presence, there was no more denying it. 

In a rare display of self-recrimination, Basilton was beginning to regret how he had begun his relationship with Snow. He had insulted Simon Snow relentlessly, spurning his attempts at friendship and being altogether a true cad. His boorish reaction to the boy who’d only ever offered politeness and companionship hadn’t been limited to the boy himself, either. All of his friends were intimately familiar with every flaw he found in him, thanks to Basilton’s apparent inability to talk about anything else, even in completely different company.

And yet.

And yet Basilton had just looked up at him at dinner and couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed how very fine his eyes were before. 

Once he noticed that, he couldn’t help but observe other things. He noticed how welcoming and warm Simon’s laugh was, how kind his smile was. He noticed how pleasantly wide his shoulders were, how steady and sure his hands were. He noticed how the moles and freckles dotting his skin looked much more like stars dotting the sky than like anything cruel he had compared them to.

He wasn’t perfectly polished, but his manners were easy and playful. Basilton felt drawn to that ease.

More than anything, Basilton noticed how, despite his incessant and obvious dislike of the boy, Snow had never treated him with anything other than cautious politeness and courteous deference.

Basilton could never let things be easy for himself. And he couldn’t get those eyes out of his head, even long after he had handed Simon and Penelope off into their carriage and watched it disappear down the road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay baz we see u ;)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! Quick note at the beginning this time - just want to make it clear that I LOVE Agatha Wellbelove and this is v much not aggie hate, her story will unfold more and make more sense in a few chapters! Thank you all so much for reading!

Penelope and Agatha had been invited to Netherfield for the day, and they were gliding across the countryside on horseback at this moment.

Simon felt his heart twinge. He knew Agatha may have been included on the invite for several reasons. It would be improper for Penelope to go visit two men alone, after all. And Agatha was a lovely woman, she could be invited anywhere on her own merit. Simon would be doing her an injustice to assume some sinister motive was involved. 

No matter what he thought logically, he still felt his stomach flip at the idea of Agatha and Basilton cozied up in a corner while Penelope and Micah were off on their own. Simon wasn’t sure why he felt like this. Agatha was not his - he wasn’t even sure if he would want that future for himself anymore. 

He was thinking too much. 

Simon headed to the kitchen to distract himself. He almost shattered the tea things when a roiling crash of thunder nearly made him jump out of his skin. Simon peered out the window as the first thick drops of a storm streamed down the pane. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth. Would Penny and Agatha be arriving soon? He hoped so. Surely Micah would look after Penny, that at least he could take comfort in. 

* * *

“Simon, this is absurd. I can’t spare any more of the horses from my work today. There’s no reason for you to go there anyway. I need you working on this with me.”

“She’s sick father, and she’s only a few miles away. I’m going to check on her. I’ll be back shortly, so long as I find her well.”

Davey snorted and stalked out of the room, unable to understand why anyone would care for anything but a project.

A few minutes later, Simon was pulling on his boots and heading to Netherfield, unperturbed by his father’s displeasure. Penelope had asked him to come, and it was the sort of inquiry that Simon would never neglect from Penny. Simon would never neglect Penny of anything, no matter the sort, really.  

Simon was well and truly dirty by the time he arrived. He was aware of this, but there was little he could do after trudging through three miles of mud. He had tried to kick some of the muck off of his boots, but that had only lead to more mud spattered on his trousers. His cheeks stained a ruddy pink as Basilton swung open the door and gave him a cool once over. 

“Snow. I’m trying to imagine what you’re doing on my doorstep wearing half the countryside.”

“Oi, Basil, this is my doorstep! Let the man in before we get another Snow sick.” 

Micah waved Simon in and gave him a hearty handshake.

“I’m glad you’re here, Simon. Penelope will be so glad to see you. Let me show you up to her room.”   


* * *

Micah walked Simon up to Penelope’s room, showing very proper concern for her well-being on the way up, and then excused himself to give them some privacy. 

Penelope looked much worse off than Simon had hoped, but he knew that Penny was not one to ask for favors when they were unnecessary. She would not have called him over here for a trifle. Micah had said the doctors had been in and felt sure of her recovery. This news had set Simon to ease, and he now went about the business of setting Penny to ease. 

Agatha was a rotating feature of the sick chamber. She would come in and flutter about Penny, smoothing her hair and her sheets and kissing her temple. But she came and went with the breeze while Simon stood immovable by Penny’s side. 

* * *

Agatha had been wandering around Netherfield looking for Baz all afternoon. She caught a glimpse of him turning a corner, and refusing to let this opportunity slip her by, she rushed after him. 

“Ah, Mr. Pitch! We have not had a moment to speak with all this commotion in the house,” Agatha cried. She approached Mr. Pitch in the corridor outside of library, resting her hand on his arm to stop him.

“I’m afraid that we have not, Ms. Wellbelove,” he agreed, tipping his head and taking a small step back. 

“Penelope is quite lovely don’t you think? Her and Micah seem to be getting on rather well.”

“They do seem to be, but her interest does not appear to be anything out of the ordinary kind. Unfortunately, though she is a pleasant and intelligent woman, her circumstances must very materially lower her chances of marrying well. The same is true for Mr. Snow.”

“Speaking of, what did you think of that great exhibition Mr. Snow made of himself this morning? I would not imagine that you should ever show up any place unannounced and six feet deep in mud.”

“I should surely do my best to avoid doing so, but I have rather more means to attend to urgent business in the proper manner than he does. I admire his persistence in doing what he ought and checking in on the wellbeing of his sister.”

“Oh but really, doing all of that over a silly little trifle such as a cold? It does seem to me to be very willful and odd. But Simon has always been that way, ever since we were children,” Agatha sniffed in disapproval. 

“I think it shows a very pleasing affection for his sister. I would like to think I would do the same for Mordelia.”

Agatha hummed in displeasure, making a vague excuse and flitting away. Agatha could always get things to go her way, and Mr. Pitch was not playing along. 

* * *

On the third day of Penelope’s impromptu stay at Netherfield, a carriage pulled up. The Snow’s carriage, which could not be afforded to either of the children in fact, was pulling up.

Davey Snow exited the carriage wearing a patched brown suit and a green greatcoat, capes and all. The coat was much too extravagant for the nearly ragged suit he wore underneath and wasn’t particularly suited to the weather either. Davey Snow was neither an attractive nor practical man. 

Basil watched from the window in disbelief as the man strode up to the front door with complete confidence, his nose curled ever so slightly in disdain, a gesture Basil only notice because of how often he did it himself. 

With every word Basilton heard from Davey, he became more and more sure that the connection between Ms. Snow and his friend was being orchestrated in order for this man to obtain wealth and connections.

Penelope seemed a well and truly sweet girl, and he didn’t suspect her of being too deeply implicated in the matter. He thought, though, that perhaps she may have been persuaded to encourage a match that she was not herself opposed to with little knowledge of her father’s scheming. 

Whether Penelope was complicit or not, he would not allow Micah and his family to be used in such a manner. He was glad that he had discovered this, because it steadied him in his conviction that Simon Snow was below him, that marrying him would be a disservice to the Pitch name, and that no such union could ever take place. He would not allow his family to be used either. 

It would be a simple matter. Micah trusted him, and they had been planning a visit back to London for a while. Basil would just have to ensure that their visit was as long as necessary to sever the tie. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey yall!! Long time no see!! I'm hitting you with a short chapter today and I'm very sorry to do that but I wanted to let yall know what's going on. I've been in training from 9 am to 9 pm for a few weeks and I haven't had much time for anything else. But my classes start again at the end of August and my actual job will be a lot less time consuming than training is so somewhat regular updates should be back soon. Sorry to leave yall with something so short after so long but wanted to make sure yall know I'm not abandoning this!!

Penelope was in the sitting room, curled in on the plush window seat. She was busying herself with her sewing, trying to keep her mind off of Sir Micah. The whole neighborhood had been talking about the men’s departure from town. They had left just as suddenly as they had arrived.  But Penny was a reasonable woman, not one to wallow, she chided herself. Even if the rain outside the window did lend itself particularly well to her gloomy mood. 

Simon came clattering in with the tea things and a plate piled high with scones. Penny put on the brightest smile she could manage as Mrs. Snow followed Simon into the room. Penny wouldn’t let them worry about her. Anyway, she was Penelope Snow and Penelope Snow did not mope about boys. No matter how pleasant they may be. 

* * *

* * *

 

“It is rather disappointing they had to go back to town so suddenly. But it is no matter of importance. At least we know that they do not intend to return, so we shall not be sitting around in wait for an event that will not come,” Penelope confided in Simon when they were left to themselves one evening.

“Penny, we’ve learned that Mr. Pitch has no desire or intent of returning to the country this winter. But Mr. Pitch does not speak for his friend. Mark my words, Micah will not be able to resist your charms for long. He’ll be back in a fortnight, at the absolute latest.”

“Oh Simon, you over-exaggerate his attachment a great deal. The attractions for a baron in London must be much greater than any society the country can provide.”

“Penelope, I never thought you a fool. But if you think Micah is an inconstant man who is not very much in love with you, then you surely must be one. I’ve never seen more clear marks of attachment in my life!”

Simon couldn’t imagine anyone not seeing all the charms he himself saw in Penelope, but his notions weren’t merely blinded by partiality. Micah had shown very clearly his intentions with Penelope, and the connection had been seen amongst all their acquaintances. He would be back. Simon was sure of it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I'm so so sorry for the long delay between updates! This semester was really busy for me but I'm hoping to make some decent headway on this during winter break. In return for my long absence, please enjoy the long (ish) update (not like actually long but REALLY long for me because my average length for like entire fits is 400 words lol) I also have a quick question in the end notes so check that out when your done :)

A month had elapsed since Sir Micah and Mr. Pitch had left the country, and there was still no sign of their return. 

Even Simon was having a hard time believing that Micah would return before Christmas had come and gone. He was however, positive that this arrangement was not in accordance with Micah’s feelings. He was sure Basilton had a hand in this. He saw Micah’s attachment just as clearly as Simon had and his pride would not allow his lofty friend to make a connection with such a lowly family.

Simon detested the man for it. He likewise began to resent Micah for allowing himself to be controlled so easily. He was too pliant and easy tempered for his own good. Basilton had materially ruined any chance of happiness for a most beloved sister for the time being, and Simon knew not how long the ill effects would continue. Basilton’s rude manners to him were one thing, but this was unforgivable. 

When he expressed his belief of this interference to Penelope, she thought nothing to be more unlikely. 

“Simon, I think you are focusing far too much on Basilton. You are making him out to be a great villain! He is not plotting anything, we’ve seen absolutely no sign of it. You’d do much better spending all of this time on your work or studies, not thinking of Basil.”

When met with such a strong reproof, he knew better than to pursue it. Penelope would not budge, and he would not pain her by dwelling on Micah’s absence. 

Davey, however, dwelt on whatever he wanted to whether it caused pain to his family or not. He had been bemoaning the loss of the connection for the sake of his business for weeks, to such a degree that Simon could not shield Penelope from the comments. No matter how much Lucy and Simon attempted to step in, they could not stop the insensitive comments from spilling out of his lips, nor ignore Penelope’s flinch in response. Simmering rage for the man that was the cause of all of this bubbled away unabated in Simon.

* * *

Agatha’s mother rushed into the Snow’s home, tears in her eyes and handkerchief clutched in her thin fingers. She knocked into Simon in her hurry and rushed blindly into the surprised grasp of Mrs. Snow. 

“Lucy! She’s leaving! Agatha has decided that she is striking out on her own! She is packing her things and leaving in a post-chaise! Imagine! Not even taking a proper carriage!”

Simon ducked out of the room to give Mrs. Wellbelove some privacy, thinking over what he had heard as he exited. 

If he were honest with himself, he wasn’t completely surprised. Agatha had always had a disdain for her parent’s aristocratic way of life. She enjoyed the luxuries of it, but she didn’t have the time or patience for neighborhood politics. It simply never mattered to her. Simon wasn’t surprised she wanted to escape it all. 

He felt a little sad, though. He didn’t regret the loss of the marriage her parents had schemed up for them. He really didn’t think Agatha could’ve been happy with him. But he would miss her friendship and company, and he knew Penelope would as well. He wondered where she was going, and when he would next see her. 

Simon didn’t have to wonder long, as it turned out. He got a letter from the express the very next day. Agatha had implored him and Penelope to come visit her. She had taken a small cottage, but she was settled in a comfortable neighborhood and thought it would be pleasant for them. Besides that, she was eager to see them and speak frankly together for the first time since their childhood. 

Simon was happy to oblige her, but even happier at the idea of removing Penelope from the neighborhood for a bit. She could use a distraction. When Simon brought it up, Penny reluctantly agreed. She resented Agatha for leaving, but she saw the merit of the plan and was likewise desirous of a change of scenery. 

Simon soon had the arrangements in order, and they set in the carriage. Simon was full of anxious energy as they drove along. Travelling always made him nervous, but the ride was long and he eventually settled in. 

* * *

“Simon! Penelope! You can’t imagine how glad I am to see you,” Agatha was smiling from just outside her door, and Simon wondered if it was the first genuine smile she had given him since they were children. Her letter certainly seemed to indicate so. 

“Oh, do come in! Don’t be bothered about your bags, Henry will see to them,” Agatha waved them in, politely inquiring about their ride. Penelope had yet to meet her eyes. 

Once they were inside and all seated with a cup of tea, Agatha reached out and clasped Penelope’s hand in her own.

“Please don’t be cross with me, Penny. I can explain everything I assure you. If you hadn’t both been cooped up in a carriage all day, I would now. But as it is, I will show you two to your rooms and you can get some rest. Everything that must be said can wait for the morning.”

* * *

“I’m sorry to say that I resented you both. You never seemed to feel the expectations of society as such a heavy burden. Nor did you seem naturally inclined to oppose them. But you see, I cannot be happy to play that role that my parents expected of me. That everyone seemed to expect from me. I could not marry Simon and be a wife and a mother. I am not made for it! But I have also been weak. I thought that perhaps I would marry. I did not always see that I had another option. But you see, Penelope, I know that you would never marry against your better judgement. I know that you would never be so weak. For so long I was weak, and so I grew to resent you. But now I have realized my own strength. This residence has been settled on me since my birth, and though my father may do as he pleases with his estate, this cannot be taken away from me.”

Agatha was in a very different home than they had been used to see her. Wellbelove Manor was a grand place. This cottage was well kept, but definitely modest. It wasn’t even the size of the servant’s quarters in the Manor. The furnishings were simple but it was comfortable. Simon was glad to see Agatha happy. 

Penelope seemed to disapprove, though she hadn’t said so aloud. She didn’t think running away was the answer to anything. Simon didn’t either, but Agatha hadn’t run away. She just left. She also resented Agatha a bit for Simon’s sake, much more than he did himself.

Agatha told them of her new life in the country. She explained that she had become rather intimate acquaintance with the mistress of a great house they had passed on their journey, Lady Fiona. She had been so obliging as to allow Agatha to keep her horse in that house’s stables, as Agatha’s cottage had none. 

Their days passed pleasantly and with little variation until the following Tuesday, when Agatha returned from a walk and informed them that they would be dining with Lady Fiona, if it pleased them. 

“Lady Fiona has been most kind to me. She is of a similar disposition, having struck out on her own. I must admit that she gives me great hope for myself and that her company is among my greatest comforts here. Some call her course, and perhaps she is, but I do not believe that makes her one ounce less pleasant. I rather think that it adds to her charms. For one such as myself who has grown surrounded by the strictest deference to civility and niceness, vulgarity is next to heavenliness. I do hope that you should both find her as agreeable as I do tonight.”

They both expressed their warmest approbation, assuring her that they would both find her nothing less than Agatha had described and that she had done them both the greatest kindest already through her usefulness to Agatha. Penelope said all of this with an excited gleam in her eye, though perhaps a note of worry lingering beneath. Every word fell from Simon’s lips with the real joy of seeing a friend succeed to all of the happiness he could have wished for her. He could not imagine a place more perfectly suited for his dear friend.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PRAT AND PREJUDICE SAID ACE AGGIE RIGHTS!!!!! On the note of excellent updates from Wayward Son, does anyone have an opinion on if I should go back and change Micah to Shepherd? All I can think about is the neck beard smh. Find me on Tumblr @manicmagicat :) Thank you for reading!!!


	8. Chapter 8

“It was very kind of Lady Fiona to offer her carriage,” Penelope remarked as it clattered up.

  
“Oh, she never offers. She’s also never refused any time I’ve made the request, though, so it’s as good as.” Agatha laughed good-naturedly.

  
Penelope cut her eyes sharply to her. “That is not very proper of you, Agatha,” she said with a frown. Agatha waved the comment off, saying that her and the lady did not have to stand upon such formalities. Simon thought it was natural to request a favor from a friend. While he understood Penelope’s view on the situation considering their disproportionate rank, he was very happy to be saved the walk in the cold and did not spare a thought for it after Agatha’s last dismissive comment was made.  
The drive to the lady’s house was charming and they were kindly welcomed in by the servants. They were shown to a drawing room, richly furnished in black and reds. Lady Fiona was dressed elegantly, although her black boots were unusual. Simon wondered if she were perhaps in mourning, since he could not otherwise account for the chunky black shoes.

  
“Hello Fiona, how do you do? These are my lovely friends Simon and Penelope Snow.”

  
“I’ve heard so much about you too, it’s always a pleasure to meet friends of Agatha’s,” Lady Fiona said extending her hand to each of them in turn. Her face was serious, almost grim. Simon felt a flutter of nerves, and was not sure why he felt that this introduction was so very important.

  
Over dinner, Agatha implored the lady to tell her history to her friends. With a warm smile, the first Simon had seen from her, Lady Fiona agreed to tell her tale.

  
“I settled here after my Nicky died. The Pitch’s, my family, and the Petty’s are both very powerful and very rich, and they had been scheming for me and Nico to marry for a while. It was dreadfully tiresome, and though we were fond of each other, we almost didn’t want to go through with the match because of how much it delighted out families. It aligned too well with societal expectations and pandered far too much to all of our families ideas of propriety and honor. Nicky and I were never fond of that sort of thing, he was very defiant about it. But if there’s one thing the aristocrats love more than an eligible match, it’s willful misery. So we decided that, though our match would be considered suitable, our ensuing happiness would be repugnant enough that we could allow it. And so we were engaged. Shortly after, my Nicky died, leaving everything to me and taking everything from me in one fell swoop. I found myself just as wealthy as my family had desired but entirely too single for their preferences. I took off to Beijing and studied for a few years with an herbalist. It was invigorating and I enjoyed my study, but when my dear sister Natasha died I would not stand to leave my nephew alone, and so I returned. I am content to have left Beijing for his company, and I have cultivated a rather magnificent greenhouse here to continue my pursuits.”

  
“I’m so sorry, Lady Fiona. Losing them must have been very hard on your spirits.”

  
“I miss my sister terribly. While I mourn Nico, though, I am not sorry to have given up matrimony. I could not have had the independence I now enjoy and I certainly should not have escaped without a few children. I delight in having escaped that fate. Not the least because Natasha’s mischievous boy would’ve been my favorite even if I had a litter, and then I’d have to deal with a civil war among the littluns.”

  
Simon wondered about this nephew that could be favored even over sons and daughters, and hoped he might get the chance to meet them. He felt the pit in his stomach grow heavier as he registered her family name. Had she said. . . Pitch? Who was this mysterious nephew? Surely it couldn’t be-

  
“Do you get to see your nephew often?” Penelope mercifully asked, as if divining his thoughts.

  
“Perhaps even more often than I should wish,” Lady Fiona laughed, but there was a fondness in her eyes despite her biting tone. “Basil is actually to be arriving in three days time for a visit of two weeks. I’m sure he would be delighted to see you as Agatha has told me that you are all acquainted.”

  
Simon let out a cry of shock and dismay, barely managing to disguise it under the pretense of those far more civil emotions of surprise and pleasure. He was not sure how he should endure the next fortnight.


	9. Chapter 9

Simon was in the sitting room with Penelope, Agatha, and Lady Fiona waiting for the men to come down for dinner. They had been invited to dine with them the very day of their arrival. 

Agatha had arrived from her walk giggling, saying “We have Simon to thank for this civility I am sure. Basilton would not have extended the invitation so quickly on my account.” Simon said that the country air must have addled her brain.

Now here he was, around people whose company he truly enjoyed, thoroughly unable to relax. He was pacing and tapping and twitching, much to the annoyance of the ladies present. After an interminable amount of time had elapsed, Simon heard footsteps from above.

Mr. Pitch descended, looking broodingly handsome in burgundy. There was another man with him whom Simon had not met before. Lady Fiona had informed him that one of Basil’s cousins would be joining him during his stay. The man looked like Basil, except that he was not quite so handsome nor quite so dour. The man grinned, bowing to Lady Fiona, Agatha, and Penelope.

“Mr. Snow, this is my cousin Colonel Grimm. Dev, This is Mr. Snow. We recently had the pleasure of becoming acquainted during my stay at Netherfield.” With the polite introduction completed, Baz excused himself and moved to go beside his aunt. He struck quite a pleasing figure, from a distance at least. Simon turned his attention back to the man in front of him. He did not have much hope for a pleasant evening, if the man was anything like his cousin. 

Colonel Grimm turned to Simon with a strange twinkle in his eye that Simon could not account for. He offered his hand and said, “At your service Mr. Snow. I’ve heard so much about you,” he paused and glanced at Baz, then continued, “and about your sister and Ms. Wellbelove of course.” He shook Simon’s hand firmly, and Simon could have sworn he winked before turning his attention to Agatha. 

Colonel Grimm entered into conversation directly with the readiness and ease of a well-bred man, and talked very pleasantly; but his cousin, after having addressed a slight observation on the house and garden, sat for some time without speaking to anybody. At length, however, his civility was so far awakened as to inquire of Simon after the health of his family. He answered him in the usual way, and after a moment's pause, added:

“I was surprised that Bingley and yourself left the country so suddenly this winter. Bingley had seemed in great spirits at Netherfield, I would not have expected him to excuse himself for such a long period so shortly after taking its residence.”

“Oh, Bingley has the type of disposition that is happy wherever he is. When he is in the country, he thinks that he shall be happy never to leave it. But when he is in town, he thinks he shall be happy to never leave there either. He goes where his business takes him and then declares that it was always his intended location.” Baz answered smoothly, though not without some confusion. 

The rest of the evening passed with pleasant conversation. Simon found that he thoroughly enjoyed the company and conversation of Colonel Grimm. Since Basil found it unnecessary to speak more than a few words all evening, Simon thought that the Colonel may have compensated for even his unfortunate presence. Perhaps he would get through the next fortnight more easily than he had originally surmised.

* * *

Dinner at Lady Fiona’s had become a common occurrence for the occupants of Agatha’s cottage and tonight was not different. Colonel Fitzwilliam seemed really glad to see them; anything was a welcome relief to him at Rosings; and it appeared that Simon had moreover caught his fancy very much. He now seated himself by him, and talked so agreeably of Kent and Hertfordshire, of travelling and staying at home, of new books and music, that Simon had never been half so well entertained in that room before; and they conversed with so much spirit and flow, as to draw the attention of Lady Fiona herself, as well as of Mr. Pitch. His eyes had been soon and repeatedly turned towards them with a look of curiosity; and that her ladyship, after a while, shared the feeling, was more openly acknowledged, for she did not scruple to call out:

“Are you gentlemen talking of music? I should hope that you are not all talk and that we may eventually get to hear someone play tonight. Of course, I would know exactly who was deserving of this office if Mordelia had come along. But since she is not here, one of you shall have to do. How is she coming along Basil?”

“Her playing is coming along beautifully. She practices diligently and she truly enjoys the pursuit. It’s a pleasure to watch her. Her favorite to play right now is David Beaumont, and you know how complex his music is. Moonage Daydream echoes through Hampshire day and night when she’s at home. I’ve just ordered her a new instrument, actually.” Basil smiled fondly, proud of his sister. It was a look that Simon had not seen on his face before. 

Simon was eventually the one chosen to take up the piano forte, at Colonel Grimm’s request. Mr Pitch made his way over in all of his grace and grandeur to watch him play.

At the first pause in the song, Simon shot at an arch smile his way and cheekily said, “You mean to frighten me, Mr. Pitch, by coming in all this state to hear me. I will not be alarmed, though your sister does play so well. There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me.”

“I shall not say you are mistaken because you could not really believe me to entertain any design of alarming you. I have had the pleasure of your acquaintance long enough to know that you find great enjoyment in voicing opinions which in fact are not your own.”

Simon turned to Colonel Grimm at this address, laughing heartily.

“Your cousin would have you think quite ill of me, and to not believe a word that comes out of my mouth. Rather foolish of him, though, lest I tell you how he behaves among strangers.”

“I am not afraid of you,” replied Mr. Pitch smilingly.

“Pray, what do you have to tell of my cousin? Has he been brooding and sulking all the time he’s been in Watford?” Dev asked.

Simon glanced at Baz and thought he saw a hint of a smile tugging at his lips before returning his gaze to the piano keys. 

“Oh, he has done a great deal of that, but I think that is nothing new. No, what I have to tell you is far worse. The first time I ever met Mr. Pitch was at a ball, where he did not dance but two dances! And I know for a fact that there were several people sitting in want of a partner. Now what do you have to say for yourself, Mr. Pitch?”

“I have not the talent some people have of recommending myself to strangers.”

“Should we ask your cousin, Colonel Grimm, why a man of fashion and intelligence may not be so happy as to recommend himself to strangers?”

“I can answer your question without applying to my cousin. It is because he will not give himself the trouble!” Colonel Grimm smirked.

“I certainly do not possess the skill which some have of being easy in new company, of joining their conversations quickly and taking an interest to their concerns.”

“No? And my fingers do not move across these keys with the skill that I have seen many others do so. They do not have the same force or dexterity. Yet I have always considered this to be my own fault, because I will not take the trouble of practising.”

“No one who has had the pleasure of hearing you play, Mr. Snow, will think that your time has been misspent. It seems we neither of us perform to strangers.”

Simon’s fingers faltered on the keys under Mr. Pitch’s intense gaze, but the conversation was just then interrupted by Lady Fiona. Simon wasn’t sure whether he felt more relieved or disappointed at the interruption. 

At the request of the gentlemen, Simon remained at the instrument until her ladyships carriage was called to take them home.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t y’all love the classical composer David Beaumont and his sonata ‘Moonage Daydrem’ ;)


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